Long Black history Poems
Long Black history Poems. Below are the most popular long Black history by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Black history poems by poem length and keyword.
Eight years ago, I was inspired by Black History Month
to write these few lines as my contribution. The longings
and aspirations of any people demand that the primary
focus be prayer. So, in commemoration of Black History
Month 2024, again, I offer this prayer:
Dear God:
May this generation of Black Americans
never lose the knowledge of OUR Father God.
May WE ever believe, retain, and refer to the
two great documents of the Bible and the
U.S. Constitution.
May WE determine to keep the focus on OUR sacred
teachings about God, family, church, and country.
May WE never submit to a mentality of dependency
upon OUR government.
May WE ever strive to contribute OUR talents
and challenge OUR country to Excellency.
Let US never lose sight of the dreams
and aspirations of OUR forefathers.
Let US never forget the price paid for OUR
present freedom and prosperity.
Let US remember that OUR deceased loved ones
are like a cloud of witnesses.
Let US always believe, like prior generations,
that WE too can overcome anything.
And let US, like prior generations, pick OUR peak
and climb, ever-ascending, never quitting.
In the name of OUR Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Social injustice and economic inequality
have always been practiced in our Nation's working industry
Irish need not apply, Hispanics we don't want your kind
and Blacks don't even show your face
this was the typical response to ethnic minorities in America's workplace
nepotism and favoritism were the norm and status quo
as it was not about your knowledge or skill but about who you know
let us never forget the unions and labor laws which evened the playing field
for if it was left up to corporate America economic inequality would never yield
Racism, discrimination and segregation on our Nation's history is a blight
and in spite of all the civil rights laws we still have to fight
for a measure of equal opportunity
for some respect and a little dignity
let us never forget the Rev. Dr. King Jr., Medgar Evers, Cesar Chavez and Rosa Parks
those who stood up against injustice by igniting a socially conscious spark
they did not back down, they would not back off, they took a moral stance
so that every single human being in this country could have an equal chance
We hold these truths to be self-evident that all citizens shall be treated the same
regardless of race, color, age, gender or how we pronounce your name
and as we celebrate Black History Month let us never forget those who led the fight
in the struggle for social justice, economic equality and basic human rights
by BaMuata
A poem celebrating Black history and humanity's endless possibilities*
We are the light shining bright,
Through centuries of struggle, standing in our might,
From ancient kingdoms to the modern day,
Our brilliance illuminates the way.
We are the dreamers, the builders, the bold,
Stories of resilience, forever told,
In every generation, we rise and fight,
A beacon of hope, shining ever so bright.
We are the artists, the poets, the sage,
Writing our truth on history's page,
Through music and movement, we stake our claim,
A legacy of greatness, etched in our name.
We are the scientists, the leaders, the wise,
Breaking through barriers, reaching the skies,
In every field, we make our mark,
Turning shadows into light from the dark.
We acknowledge all possibility within,
A place in humanity where we all begin,
United in purpose, diverse in our song,
Together we're powerful, together we're strong.
We are the past, the present, the future untold,
Hearts full of courage, spirits of gold,
In celebration of Blackness, we stand in our right,
Forever and always, we are the light shining bright.
My mother destroyed January with her horrible death of bone cancer.
Not her fault, but still, January was a total absolute bust in 2020.
February was okay except Black History Month got a rotten answer.
Bad planning made it get put into wrong month thanks to a few.
March was normal except I could no longer give my mother a shout.
Picked up the phone, and then remembered, which was totally weird.
Because of the Covid-19 pandemic, school was a day early let out.
No one knew then that school was being for the year totally cleared.
Easter came and went without people going to church or having dinner.
May was spent learning Google Slides, Bitmoji Classroom and Zoom.
When I learned it all, school was over and I did not feel like a winner.
I was sheltering in place, at home, without friends in the month of June.
In July I only went to two school houses to clean out my rooms.
Assigned to new schools the coming year. I would see them on Zooms.
Schools did not open when health department came in and yelled no.
In actuality, we still do not know if and when it will be safe to go.
Online virtual teaching has not made the teachers or students merry.
Some students attend in the morning, but stop logging in after lunch.
October now. I have not seen my ten grandchildren since January.
USA politics, Covid-19, and 215, 000 deaths in one year - frankly,
I do not like like the year 2020 a bunch.
Written By: D. Collins 7/1/23
No one can re-write what I can regurgitate.
Which is being a Black Man in the United States.
Born and raised, so I bring it firsthand.
Only those in my shoes can feel where I am.
Does teaching of Pangaea land a parent in jail?
Speaking of Malcolm X, will it get you no bail?
Uttering Martin Luther King might get you the maximum?
In which time handed down includes your great, grandson?
Well, if I get locked up because they want me on the low.
Generations after me will have it long, before I go.
A lot of black students won't attend universities.
Because of wordsmithing it's called "Diversity".
There were only Black Souls who died clearing the fields.
Now, newcomers are stepping up to claim the yield.
Yeah, Li'L Homey, I'm here to tell you no lie.
As long as I'm living Black History won't die.
I will teach them of Jimi Hendrix, who played upside down.
Even give them a little taste of some Louie Armstrong.
I stand convicted, willing to do my time.
As long as Black History never dies....
As February hands the reins to March we turn our attention to women’s history…
We celebrate their contributions of our culture…to our society.
This poem is written for the men…because women you already know…by far…
In fact you’ve known throughout our history just how awesome you all are.
Yes, men…this month is our chance…a chance for fools like me and you…
to celebrate…and marvel…at all the things that women do!
Start to make a list…trust me you’ll stop when your hand turns blue….
Let’s just say there’s nothing…nothing in this world…that women cannot do!
If there’s a job that needs completed…we know a woman can…
accomplish it much faster…more efficiently and always better than a man.
Any many who thinks he is superior to a women…
be they his friend, his colleague…his wife…
should remember on top of everything else they do…they give birth to life.
Women should be role models for fools like me and you…
because…and this bears repeating…there is nothing they can’t do!
Women are intelligent, wise, courageous, empathetic…self-confident…and strong….
and just like with Black history….we celebrate them all month long…
And though I’m glad we take a month to celebrate their contributions throughout history…as I sit here writing this poem…this thought occurred to me:
We set aside a month each year to celebrate our diversity…
Black, Women, Asian, Hispanic Disabled, Native American…gay….
I pray they’ll come a time when we don’t need a month…
because we celebrate everybody…everyday.
Call it what you will
But I know exactly where I have been
You have stripped away my zeal and well me up with Nippon steel
The knife is at his throat and travelers are loading in a big boat
Where they are going, I don’t know
But they are getting ready for the burning man’s show
The shackles have been taken away
And we are celebrating a brand-new day
But you have come to steal their joy away
From whence did this act come.
It was there from the pilgrimage began
When diversity is on the run
You have cleared off all the kitchen shelves
And left them standing on the edge
But as swift as the birds can fly
The heavens have listened to their passionate cry.
We are not to be blamed for your age-old dirty games
You must re-install the diversity equity inclusion program
Or the heavens will nail you by the thump, before the year is done.
Black history is global history, and you cannot deny it
The world has witnessed it!
my soul chained with fears
caged in a dark place
cries with sorrowful tears
down my pale, hollow face
the notes of my song die
before even being born
my broken wings cannot fly
deep in my heart, I can feel
this sharp, constant thorn
I dream of a new land
the land of the blue skies
-the land of the free-
across this desert,
across this dry sand
across this stormy sea
will I dare to act on my dreams?
will I dare to rise and break my chains?
will I dare to free all the inside screams?
will I dare to reveal all my pains?
my soul without any fears
flies free in a colorful place
cries with new happy tears
down my bright, beautiful face
a new song is born in an instant
I carry it on my new silver wings
there’s no time and no distance
I’m born in the eternal existence
my heart forever sings
I dream of a new land
the land of the blue skies
-the land of the free-
across this desert,
across this dry sand
across this stormy sea
though I yam Caucasian,
tis rightful to honor that most bitter
racist genocidal crime
nonetheless ovation qua
quintessential significant contribution
vis a vis that doth litter
anonymous multitudinous peoples
many unknown dark skinned souls
bravely fought as non quitter
with melanin so coon sitter
this asthma feeble attempt
made to mind of literate
parent, guardian or sitter
adorn aye rhythmically twitter
to *****Sapiens with Negroid color
who, despite being human bondage
managed to adorn
worthy contributions to society,
though an American (though not so proud)
and civilization since time immemorial
hence, I wanna pay poetic homage
to persons born
akin to diversity exemplifying gamut
analogous to Indian corn
debased brutally and forlorn
and raised in cornucopia horn
of plenty with rare serf tenderness
whipped by wicked task masters
from the crack of morn,
aye cannot fathom why
a great proportion of humanity
must struggle on scraps of subsistence
viz with fifty plus shades of chocolate
vile shamefully opprobrious sworn
vengeance toward those
via heroic efforts escaped,
page number 2
manacled, tortured, et cetera history
as slaves an existence
until...pacified family dislocated
sans rent asunder, ripped and torn.
Once a proud family akin to Brady
bunch, now brutally, nasty
and short lived poorly destitute
(case in point) like Haiti -
once a nation extant with cultural finery
insidiously raped "Lady"
lacerated odiously robbing
unique peoples as owners didst slay
practically naked "Primates"
encaged like wild animals in zoos
culturally robbed while
abhorrently marched in ones and twos
shredded souls without shoes
(analogous to persecuted Jews)
of singular ambition to break shackles
though tightly fused
to life as they chose.
As I look thru this scope
this, rifle if you will
I still hear that whisper (Corey shoot to kill)
today could be my last meal
like Christ last supper so like the
word of God my floetic lyrics bypass
flesh and cuts thru souls like a hot knife thru butter
and as a black man I don't know what it's like
to be a black woman and imma father so
I can't imagine what it was like for my mother
but my scope, my aim, my trigga finger
is nothin like yourz.
You see my heart too was once cold
now I'm back on solid ground
like the concrete floor, I can hear
the angels in heaven now still
shouting for my encore
I still hear em praising God's name
when the doctor cut my umbilical cord
I can still see Saul on the road to Damascus
being used by the Lord I can feel the ancient history
of my ancestors when whips tore thru their ligaments
I still see the devil speaking blasphemy to me
acting so belligerent, so take a long look at
me this here is black history
because honestly you couldn't walk thru
my shoes if I let you in my memory